RILEY

I still couldn't believe it. It's not like I haven't taken a few radical chances in my life, I mean just look at it. A conservative not-so-happy Pittsburgh girl takes a few leaps and finds true love, the old house of her dreams and a booming business. Things do work out more than fine sometimes. But as John and I stood with LizBeth and Kevin in the high power development section of Burlington's largest Industrial Park and awaited the newest additions to the Vermont population, I couldn't help but wonder. Wonder about taking risks, wonder about the power and support of real family, and wonder exactly how many balls Colin and Hando actually had ... if they were really willing to freeze them off in a full Vermont winter and trust me, that's exactly what they were heading in to.

The news was as shocking as hearing about Mere and Hando's marriage and coming baby. Hando and Colin had come up with the racing innovation of the decade. H had developed a spectacular engine that met complete approval by NASCAR (provided of course that it passed all tests over the next year). Colin had been wooing and finally contracted the perfect driver to lead the team, one L.J. Martin, a young, dynamic racer with the head for mechanic intricacies and how to work them smoothly into his driving style. Mere was early on in her pregnancy, at that newness point when she wasn't quite aware that the condition would eventually limit her. But Hando was watching her like a hawk, not an easy job as she's a dynamo to be reckoned with and in charge of all the business aspects of the venture. Their company had gone from pit crew services for other drivers, to sole owners of the car and developers of the engine that was destined to change NASCAR racing forever. The story was already all over ESPN!

Then there was Natalie. I leaned against the jeep while Kevin and John talked and turned a glance at LizBeth, always beautiful and so like Natalie. Striking, steeped in education, savvy and class . . . and living in backwoods Vermont. And I wondered; would Nat adjust as well as our Lizzybelle seemed to have? LizBeth had come to Vermont to find her love. Granted at that time it was my John, but her true knight in shining armor turned out to be Kevin, so she stayed. Women will do a lot for love.

"You really think this space is big enough?" John asked Kev for like the tenth time, his eyes scanning the width and height of the huge warehouse.

"It's perfect. I have a little construction to finish in the offices, but it's spotless. Fucking skinhead's a fanatic about that, I re-coated the floors and walls, sealed off the roof, new exhaust systems. They have adequate space for four cars, each complete with its own work arena." Kevin beamed. "Everything they asked for, all ready for this season and the critical next season."

John grinned and LizBeth and I climbed into the jeep for warmth. I turned a scowl, ready to complain that we all had to wait in the cold just so that Hando and Colin could be the first to walk in to the place, but something caught my attention.

"You okay?" I asked, noting the odd paleness of LizBeth's usual radiant complexion.

"Just fucking cold."

Oh shit, something was not right. LizBeth almost never swears. I took the cue and shut the fuck up. She'd talk to me when she was ready. It's how our relationship works. It was fine to sense trouble or joy in each other, but space was always respectfully given. I sighed.

"They are going to be exhausted. Packing up their lives, driving it all the way across the country. I hope ... oh, here they come." LizBeth opened the door and stood appropriately beside her husband. Mine? He simply reached in and dragged me into a huge happy hug. John was always thrilled to have family around, especially family he liked and these four definitely met the criteria.

KEVIN

Man, I was psyched watching the caravan of huge trucks and vans turning in to the lot. Mostly for John. Christ, to that guy everyone was family, even LizBeth and me. If he liked you, he fucking adopted you. He's like Daddy Walton, everyone was supposed to come and live near his mountain and if he could, I'm sure he'd be calling out a 'goodnight' to us all. He's not so hard to be around, though.

The project was challenging on several levels and I probably wouldn't have even taken it on if not for John's enthusiasm. First off, it was all new to me. I'm a contracting manager for Victorian renovations. It's what my whole reputation is built on; finding appropriate materials, making them work and look and feel original. This was at first completely baffling. But Hando and Colin were very specific and I did my homework. Started with checking out all those quickie lube places then headed to Detroit for a few tours. That gave me a pretty clear idea of the materials and space needed. Hando and Col were fucking clear as a bell, easy to work with and very precise. Kinda like Queen Biebe, only less intense, thank God.

And I had a whopping four weeks to complete the project, research to that very moment as everything arrived to make it functional. They came with an extensive crew and after the initial tour to see if I did what they were expecting me to do; I'd just be helping with the moving of equipment, stock cars and tools.

Then there were the women. They'd taken two small houses near each other just outside Burlington. Their household furnishings arrived the week before. Natalie's floor plan was perfect to the inch and getting everything where she wanted it was a breeze. Then John and I walked over to Mere and Hando's place. No floor plan, just strips of masking tape stating which room a box or piece of furniture belonged in. Ah well, she was a completely different animal with her attention to detail for the shop and her office. Now there was a woman who would find a way to be a mother and a business builder at the same time. There was an empty corner in her office, bet my bottom dollar it's for a crib. Early November and an easy seven months before her and the skinhead's little one came. Now that should be interesting.

"Oi, did ya get it done?"

I shook Hando's hand and reached to slap a happy Colin on the shoulder. "Let me show you what you have here."

I led them in alone, sort of my own way of showing off to the owners, you know. Also my way of saving face if I'd fucking screwed up big time. The three of us walked the perimeters, the interior, the offices. "The floor is glazed and stippled with a granite grit to protect against slipping. Got that idea from Riley. She would know about walking around on grease, should cut down on liability. Your exhaust system is above code. Security system is activated and ready to use. The guy's coming over to give you the details on that this afternoon. The offices are set up, down here," I pointed and followed. "Mere's set up at the far end, electricity's on, internet, phone. You should all be ready to rock and roll. Oh, and the electronic fence out back is on." I turned, looked into their blank faces then Colin grinned, slammed the heel of his palm against the phone receiver, dialed and shouted.

"Come on in, mates!" I'm guessing it wasn't Nat he dialed.

MERE

Oh man! I don't think anyone had any clue how happy I was to be in Vermont. Vermont, with Riley, with winter, with snow! I'm an east coast gal by nature, always loved the seasons, but truth be told, I had absolutely no influence on this move. It was purely a matter of cost effectiveness, simplicity of implementation and finding the perfect central location. Most NASCAR races were in the east, so we needed to be there. Headquartering in Daytona was out of the question, we could have hardly afforded to rent a sufficient space, much less design and own it. The answer was Vermont. It just all fell into place and even the guys seemed happy about it. Alert the press, two Aussie men willing to brave the cold.

It was never my plan to ride the entire way from sea to shining sea with Hando. I figured we'd switch off every now and then, let the guys do their talking and have some girl time together, but Nat never seemed interested in doing that. So day after day, H and I drove at the head of the caravan and talked. Well, he talked. Hando is usually a man of very few words, I'm the one famous for my verbal diarrhea but he just never shut up. I was astounded. He'd vacillate between being his cocky self to worrying about failing. The engine was his design and he was terrified we were all taking a risk on something that just might not work. But before I could even utter a few words of encouragement, he'd change his mind, become my tough, secure skinhead again and make me smile.

Hando is my best friend, the most amazing lover I've ever had and now my husband. We got married quietly two weeks earlier. I was surprised at how important it was to both of us to be married before the baby came, like we were main stream conservative Americans or something. But we were happy and thrilled to show the whole world how really mature we can be. Granted, our wedding night sex took place in our quiet garage just outside my office door. Couldn't be more perfect.

Hando did most of the talking, but we did talk a lot about the baby too. Odd, I didn't feel pregnant. Had no morning sickness or extreme exhaustion like Riles had experienced and thank God the doctors told us I'm normal and the baby's fine. We'd already set up with an OBGYN in Burlington and couldn't wait to find out if it was a boy or ... well a boy. It's what H wanted and I was wondering if he'd win this one.

It was an extremely long drive. Almost two weeks on the road. We were such a long train of trucks, cars and vans that just fueling up took over an hour. I couldn't help but laugh at the frigging strange crew we were. There was a skinhead, another Aussie with Elvis Presley sideburns, two women and sixteen mechanics, all moving to Vermont to be part of the history Hando was about to write. And of course, there was our new driver. L.J. Martin. Little John. Christ, what a piece of work that guy was. South Carolina boy. Handsome as all hell, L.J. loved the women. He flirted shamelessly with me and Nat, with the waitresses, the motel clerks and the gas station ladies, no matter the age. And I can pretty much guarantee that he never once during the entire journey slept alone. Hot stuff our L.J. Martin. Both Nat and I hated him. It was the only thing we seemed to agree on these days.

It wasn't till we were someplace in the Midwest that I think it really occurred to me how much Natalie had given up for all this. I'm so caught up in the middle of the business that I wasn't realizing how tough it might be for her. I just thought she'd continue to travel and do her photography business, but apparently it didn't work that way. She'd need to set herself up with New York agents to rebuild her business. I felt kinda bad about that, after all she never really had a say about the move. Three of us are in the business. She just had to go with the flow I guess. But Nat's a wonderful photographer and I wasn't concerned. She'd do fine. I even thought we had her full seal of approval and complete endorsement when she sold her Cessna to help finance the venture. Until recently we were great friends. She stood with us at our wedding. But it was obvious something wasn't right.

One evening somewhere in Nebraska as we all stopped for dinner before settling for the night, I watched her leave for the ladies room. I followed.

Nat was standing at the sink just staring into the mirror.

"You okay?" I asked cautiously.

"Yeah, yeah." She quickly washed her hands and tried to slip past me.

"Tell me what's wrong, Nat. This is a tough ride and you and I are the only women in this bunch. Talk to me."

After blinking several times and giving one hell of a painful sigh, she finally spoke. "I feel . . . I feel . . . I don't know. I'm all alone here, Mere."

"No you're not. How can you say that? You are the major investor; you are the love of Colin's life and my friend. You are not all alone!" Again she attempted to brush past me. I caught her shoulders and turned her to the mirror. "Look, what do you see?"

Silence, she wouldn't even look at herself.

"I'll tell you then. Christ Nat, you are the most beautiful woman I know. You are talented and warm and so loved. Colin. Me and H. Riley. Not to mention John. We're heading toward everything good. Yeah, yeah. I know it'll be a hard adjustment. But it'll all work out. You'll see."

Finally her eyes rose and met mine in the reflection. "Can you guarantee that?"

I propped my chin on her shoulder and grinned. "Yes I can," I lied.

We walked back to the table arm in arm, but that was the last few moments we spent alone the rest of the trip. It was like she was avoiding me. Oh well, everyone deals with change their own way. Me, I was looking forward to the adventure.

SIGRINE

With all the excitement of the racecar folks moving up to Burlington, no one even noticed my heartache. Lachlan was supposed to be at the Inn three days ago. He was supposed to be here for my long weekend off and he was supposed to sweep me into his arms and into his bed . . . where we belong. I can't begin to tell you how disappointed I was. Yes I know his work is important, yes I know he can't control everything. Maybe I was being a big baby, but I just wanted to see him. He was somewhere in Arabia last time he called to tell me he was trying to get to Vermont.

Christ. Arabia. London. Russia. South America. I once went to New York City with Riley. Guess that doesn't make me a world traveler like Lachlan. It wasn't just where he'd been or where he was going, it was why. He flew the plane. The one that brought Terry, Dino and Max safely home from all those awful K&R emergencies. He was the one who made sure they got to every meeting in hopes of avoiding disasters. It was Lachlan the company counted on and the world who counted on TOL. I admit I was beginning to wonder where I fit into it all.

I understand that John and Riley count on me, but no one's life is on the line if I don't show up for work. Lachlan was extremely vital to TOL. He worked hard and they appreciated him and . . . well, how significant could I possibly be in the scheme of things, you know? It would be easier for Lach to find a woman in Dallas; after all it's where he lived. Just flying to Vermont took him an easy fifteen hundred miles out of his way and out of TOL's reach in an emergency. Sooner or later, he was going to tire of me. I'm so not worth it.

And that's when the craziness started. It had been quiet all morning. We were almost booked solid through February, so the travel agencies had stopped calling for bookings. The new dinner reservation system pretty much took care of itself and I was doodling on a notepad. We have four florists in Stowe. Fillmore Flowers was the first to deliver.

It was a dozen red roses for me! They were in a lovely cut crystal vase and the card read:

I love you . . .

I put the fall arrangement from our own gardens on the sitting room coffee table and set the vase on my counter. They smelled as sweet as Lachlan and I wanted to smile, but my head was still spinning with how hopeless the relationship really was. An hour later, Bently's Blooms trudged in the door. Another dozen red roses in a glass vase. Another card that read:

I love you . . .

This one I set on the window table. An hour later, it was Pendleton's with a third dozen red roses.

I love you . . .

I looked around. That vase I placed on the hostess counter in the dining room. Then finally, Rachel's Flowers & Gifts arrived with a forth vase, the blooms deep red, almost burgundy and the scent intoxicating. As I walked toward the entry door, planning to put that one on the marble end table I pulled the card, expecting the same message.

I'm outside the door, Sigine. Can I come in?

I glanced up and there, big as life through the beveled glass stood Lachlan. I gasped. Trembled then I did it . . . dropped the vase with a resounding crash, shards of crystal and roses in a huge puddle of water. Lach charged inside as I knelt to clean the mess, tears in my eyes.

"S'okay, love. Careful, come on." He took my arm and stood with me, wrapping me into a hug I needed more than air. "Shh, darlin'. It's just some broken glass."

We held on to each other for a long time, until I stopped crying and my shoe was soaked when Lach called out, "Hey mate! Clean up in aisle four!"

"Lach!" Andy strolled over. "Bloody hell! What a mess. I'll get someone out here to clean this up. How long you in town, mate?" He clapped a hand on Lach's shoulder but we never released our embrace.

"Uh . . . not long 'nough, mate. Can someone cover for Sigrine?"

RILEY

Okay, the men were all inside and we were freezing our butts off. I looked at LizBeth, Nat and Mere and made an executive decision. "In the car, ladies. Let's go someplace warm!"

Nat slunk into the back seat, Mere climbed in beside me, looking longingly at the warehouse and LizBeth leaned into my window.

"Hey, I need to check in at the clinic. I'll catch up with you later, okay?" And she walked to her own car, drove away and left us there.

"Huh?" I grunted, wondering what the hell was in the air these days. I turned to Nat. Sullen, quiet, looking out the window. Then Mere. She wanted to check out her office but so what. I wanted to spend time with my sisters. I put the jeep in drive and headed across town.

"Where we going?" Mere asked.

"I'm taking you and Nat to see your houses. That okay with you Natalie?"

"Sure."

Okay, okay. They'd just had a long ass drive and were probably exhausted. Taking them home wasn't a bad idea at all. We parking in front of Col and Nat's place and went inside. I watched her run a finger along the dining sideboard, straighten the curve of a drape then turn to us.

"Listen, I don't mean to be . . . well rude. But do you mind? I'm so damn tired I can hardly see straight."

Mere chuckled. "Such a nice way to say 'get the hell out'. I feel your pain, Nat. No problems here. What do you say we let her rest, Riles?"

I hugged Natalie, looked into her face and smiled my best smile. "I'm so happy you're here. Get some sleep, bedrooms all put together. You and Colin try to come to the Inn for dinner tonight, okay?"

"Sure."

And the room went silent. I could hear myself swallow! Finally Mere cleared her throat and led me out. We left Nat standing in her dining room, looking more than tired.

"Jesus," I said, pointing across the street and three doors down to Mere and Hando's house. "It must have been a horrible drive"

"Not so bad. Hey Riles?"

"What?"

"Can we go back? I really, really, really wanna see my office."

"Starbucks first?" I dangled, shooting for just a little more time with Mere.

"Oh hell yes!"

As it was, I got even a bit more time since Hando and Mere did come to the Inn for dinner that night. The four of us sat and ate, joked and teased, then spend a few moments watching L.J. Martin at work. He came in late, refused to join our table and was seated across the dining room. Every chance he got, I watched his hand run up and down his waitress, Lindsey's hip, and I watched her step aside. He'd laugh and slide his chair closer.

"What is up with that guy?" I groaned, wondering when Lindsey would haul off and crack him good across his smug handsome face.

"He's a fuckin' prick," Hando grunted.

John glared at L.J. "But he's a good driver, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. But the fucker's reckless."

"Calculated reckless," Mere corrected. "Better than the average driver, that's for sure."

"So," John grinned. "If he's better than average and can get your car across the finish line first a few times this season, he'll be unstoppable next season with the new engine."

"If he lives that long, mate," Hando spat.

I gasped. "He's not that reckless, is he?"

"No, no," chuckled Mere. "What Hando means is, if he doesn't kill him first."

"So, must have been a hard drive, ay?" John poked at his dessert. "I hear Nat's worn out."

"Something isn't right with her," Mere leaned over and whispered.

John's brows curled. "She and Colin fighting?"

"Nope," Hando said.

I sighed. "Let's just give the California girl a chance to adjust before we all get into analysis mode, okay? This is a big change for her."

"For all of us," Hando said softly.

Then we heard it and without even looking up started to laugh. Lindsey had had quite enough from Mr. L.J. Martin. The slap could be heard all the way to the lobby.

"That's gonna leave a mark," John chuckled.

JOHN

"Hey baby," I said the minute we got into our suite. It had been a long fucking day and having gotten Mere and Hando settled in a room for the night, I was thinking is was finally Biebe time. Time for Riles and me, alone. She was bustling around like always, fussing with the couch pillows and straightening the magazines I always mess up. "Come on, sit down."

She plopped on the chair across from me, not what I was hoping for.

"I've been thinking."

"Oh-oh," she teased, that sparkle in her beautiful dark eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"About stuff. About Hando and Mere and the baby on the way."

"Yeah?"

"About Nat and Colin, all snug in their own bed."

"Uh-huh."

"About Lach and Sigrine, rutting like deer in the woods."

She laughed. Fucking Christ, I love her laugh. "About . . . us."

"What about us?"

"Come here." She did, grinning and straddling me, letting me hold her hips and kiss her soft lips. Letting my tongue find its way into her hot mouth, my fingers slip under her sweater.

"Just what do you have in mind, John?" Her voice was a soft sigh.

"Well, thought I'd try to talk my wife into making love with me."

She shifted, tightening herself against my hard on. "What if she's not in the mood? Will you go down to the Manor Pub and pick up one of L.J. Martin's rejects?"

"Nah, I figured to just keep begging till she gives in," and I slid my finger along the warmth between us, then under her sweater to skim over a hardened nipple and she gasped softly. "See, it wasn't so hard, ay?"

"Uh-uh," she whispered into my neck and I stood, carried her to the bedroom and stripped us both to the bone.

Between cool sheets I touched and tasted, watched her slide over and around me. Danced with her sweet body until we were covered with sweat and so fucking ready I thought I'd burst. Deep inside I stopped moving and Riley gasped.

"Still, baby. Be perfectly still." I took her hands and held them high over her head, braced my knees to stay as deep as possible and held myself sturdy against every urge to move, plunge, thrust. I watched her face and we steadied our breath.

"Oh God, John this is torture," she moaned.

"Let's hold on to it as long as we can. God sakes, Riley. We've been moving fast as a fucking freight train since we got to Vermont. Let's . . . just . . . be . . . still." My breathing got heavier and I was straining but determined. Then the most fucking amazing thing happened.

As I looked down at my Riley's face, the soft blush began. It started pink at her chest and climbed up her neck, brightened her cheeks then suddenly, without warning I could feel it. She was vibrating from the inside out. Pressing my cock with the speeding rhythm of her climax, sucking me into it and I was done like fucking dinner.

Released her hands and braced myself then went kinda nuts. Jesus, the sensations of her tightening against my advances, her path hot as fire and my cock on fucking automatic pilot. Felt like it lasted forever but finally I exploded, filling her and groaning, listening to Riley gasp and sigh and gasp again. I know sounds crazy but I fucking swear, it was the best sex I'd ever had in my fucking life . . . and I found it making love to my wife.

Does life get and better?